


Seasonal Woe

by LipstickAndWhiskey (CopperMarigolds)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, Language, Seasonal Allergies, Sinus Pressure Headache, puking, sick reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 16:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10391163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperMarigolds/pseuds/LipstickAndWhiskey
Summary: Dean’s never seen you get a headache this bad, but that won’t stop him from trying to fix it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Every spring, I always get the worst sinus pressure headaches. It’s the worst, since I’m useless when they happen. It can get to be as bad as a migraine, and it’s absolutely no fun. I just needed to write Dean taking care of me, so I hope you enjoy it too- and maybe even help others who get like this too. Also special cameo from my best friend who’s sick too. So she gets a Sammy to cuddle with.

([x](https://68.media.tumblr.com/fb7a5008cc330f486e85ef44cc7efb6a/tumblr_ojtnh3NDTb1v9tamfo1_500.gif))

 _Sigh._  It was going to be one of those days.

Your head throbs, built-up pressure behind your eyes too painful in the light of, well, _anything_. You smush your face back into the pillow, wishing that somehow that will cure your cursed seasonal hardship. It doesn’t of course, only the pills in the little green-capped bottle you’d forgotten to take could really fix it. You sigh again, sitting up to retrieve said bottle but _nope-_  your stomach objects, queasy at the mere idea of moving from your bed.

You lay there, feeling pitiful and wanting to cry, when your boyfriend walks in. You watch him take in your body language, the way your legs curl into your body, your fist pressed to your head. Brow furrowing, he comes to sit by you on the bed.

“Hey honey, you okay?” Dean asks, calloused fingers pushing strands of hair back from your face. You shake your head a little, reveling in the small comfort his presence gave you. “What’s wrong? Don’t feel good?” Again you shake your head, his palm cupping your forehead. “Well, you don’t have a fever. Is it a stomach bug? What?”

You grumble, grabbing his hand and pressing it to your cheek. “It’s a sinus pressure headache. It hurts, Dean.” His face falls a little, his other hand smoothing over his hair as he thinks.

“Is there anything I can do for you honey? Do you want me to get you something? I can go to the store, no problem. Sam’s been makin’ trips to the store for Bronwyn, so there’s plenty of ginger ale and saltines. I think Sam might’ve bought up an entire store’s stock of the stuff.”

Ah yes, your best friend and flatmate Bronwyn was still sick. You’d been friends for quite awhile now, meeting Dean through her own boyfriend Sam. It actually fit you, the fact that the inseparable brothers meshed so well with you girls. You were practically sisters, you spent so much time together. Lately she’d been down with the flu, Sam rushing this way and that to keep her fed and hydrated. The poor thing had been so worried about her, and you could tell she was enjoying the attention even though she was sick.

Now here Dean was, worried about you now. “I’ve got those allergy pills on the dresser, but my stomach’s not feeling so good.”

He nods, that precious crinkle between his brows still present as he thinks it over. “Alright, how about we get you settled on the couch with some of those saltines. They’re in there watching movies, and I know you wanna spend some time with B.”

You nod eagerly, desperate to spend time with your friend. Dean helps you get up, but the moment you’ve got both socked feet on the hardwood floor, you’re rushing to the bathroom. You wrench what little contents in your stomach into the ceramic bowl, dry heaving even after you’d finished. You always hated doing that, but gentle hands pull your hair back, making you infinitely happy you weren’t sick and alone. One hand leaves your hair, rubbing calm circles into your back as you collect yourself. “’S okay, ‘s alright,” he murmurs behind you.

He helps you stand, flushing the toilet as you go, handing you a square of toilet paper to wipe your mouth with and a small dixie cup of water to rinse your mouth of the acrid taste. After you’d finished, you wrap your arms around his middle, face pressed into his black tee as you groan. “I know, I know,” he coos, fingers threading through your hair and rubbing at your scalp. The pressure feels amazing, his strong calloused fingers doing wonders for the throbbing behind your eyes. He presses a quick kiss to your head before hoisting you up into his arms, your legs wrapped tight around his waist.

The next thing you know, he’s got you settled into the couch next to Bronwyn who’s snuggled up into Sam. “Hey there- hear you’re not feeling too good either.”

You shake your head, pouting a little at Bronwyn as Dean disappears into the hallway. You sink into her side, head lolling onto her shoulder as you look at what they’re watching. The Little Mermaid sits on a rock, a dog licking her face excitedly. Prince Eric bounds up, meeting Ariel unknowingly for the second time. “Hey Sam, you know, you’re an awful lot like Eric.” Bronwyn says, voice a little gravely from all the coughing and sneezing.

“Oh yeah? How?” Sam smiles easily, dimples showing.

Bronwyn smiles back cheekily, “I think it’s the hair.”

You’re smiling a little now too, “Yeah, ‘s the hair.” you agree.

Dean reappears, hands full of stuff for you. “Alright, I’ve got some of your favorite hot tea for you- the internet said it should help your sinuses clear up or some shit. I’ve got more saltines, and one of those allergy pills with some ibuprofen for the pain. Oh, and a light blanket if you want it. Do you need anything else?”

You want to cry again. Dean’s so sweet and he even did some googling to help. It warms your heart so much, you fight the urge to cry, opting to stay as hydrated as you can. You shake your head no, and he joins you on the couch, arm pulling you into his side as you settle your head against his chest. His hand takes up residence in your hair again, soothing some of the ache away as tingles erupt over your scalp. You’re in heaven.

The rest of your day is spent cuddling, Dean mumbling lyrics to some of the songs under his breath though he comments aloud about watching ‘girl crap’. Sam whispers to you girls about sea creatures and telling you facts about the deep sea he’d learned from some documentary, and some lore he’d read about mermaids. Dean gripes, “Shut up Sammy, they don’t care!” rolling his eyes at Sam’s ‘nerd brain’.

You eventually start to fall asleep, one of the songs from ‘Aladdin’ playing as you press a lazy kiss to Dean’s neck. He kisses your hair, letting his mouth linger as he holds you close. You may not feel entirely better, but being in Dean’s arms makes you feel loved, safe, and well taken care of. And that’s already more than you could have ever asked for.


End file.
